Sturgis Rally
by SerasKucheki
Summary: Every year, for one week, there is a Bike Rally hosted in Sturgis, South Dakota. America finally is able to go on his own bike but an unexpected visitor ruins? or livens the life of the party. AmericaxRussia


Sturgis Rally

America was thrilled as he pulled into a parking spot on Main Street Sturgis, South Dakota. He got his motorcycle license last year and worked really hard to get the money to buy a brand new Harley Davidson 2010 Softail. It was even custom painted with the American flag and the McDonald's golden arch. Once his bike was safely parked at the sidewalk he began walking down the streets looking around seeing the Rally in a whole new light since he drove his _own_ bike here. America walked through the crowd looking around and seeing which t-shirts and new bike gear he should buy.

Russia had heard from one of America's rants last year, when he actually decided to pay attention, but then again he did end up listening to the American's voice more often nowadays. He remembered him saying something about a place where there was an event for a whole week that had an unlimited supply of alcohol. Personally, he may not like American alcohol but he could deal if he was able to get a lot of vodka. What he hoped didn't happen, did though, he ran into America. "American pig." he spat smiling innocently.

America snapped his head up glaring at the Russian, "Commie bastard, why the fuck are you here?" He crossed his arms and determined to know why the Russian _had_ to be here.

For some reason hearing his voice made him hesitate with his answer, "…For the alcohol, da." When he said that it felt like the sentence was missing something, like there was another reason he was there. He just shook his head and smiled innocently at him.

America glared at him, "You could've stayed in your _own_ fucking country for that." he spat. _Maybe I should just head to my bike and…_ His face brightened at the thought. _I bet he has never rode a motorcycle before, I wonder how he'll react._

Russia saw America's face go from angry to scheming then smirking and kept smiling at him innocently like he saw nothing. "America, what are you thinking about da?" He wasn't answered but instead suddenly pulled by the arm. Too shocked and for some reason happy, he let himself be lead by the American pig but when he saw where America stopped he was a little worried. "What are we doing da?"

"We are going for a ride because I wanna see how it runs with a passenger aboard." America smiled not really telling him the reason. _I'm going to get him out of here sooner or later, there ain't no way he is ruining my first _real_ Sturgis Rally and I also…_ He shook his head not believing that last thought whatsoever.

Russia looked at the deathtrap and back at America, "Nyet." He began walking away but was stopped by an overconfident laugh.

"So you're scared." laughed America crossing his arms. Russia turned around glaring, yes glaring at him. America just smiled back, "I bet you're too scared to r…" He didn't even finish his sentence as Russia grabbed him by the collar and lifting him off the ground to make him look at him in the eyes, even though only a little was needed.

"Пошел на хуй американские свиньи, получаем, что начал Смертельная ловушка." growled Russia pushing him toward his bike and waiting for him to do whatever the hell he needed to do.

America took the growl and push as a 'go' and smiled even wider as he pulled the bike out of its spot, "Get on." he smiled at the Russian. Russia for some reason hesitated but knew he would just keep bugging him so he cautiously made his way over and barely got seated behind him without falling. "Graceful aren't we?" snickered America and got a hit over the head. "Fuck, don't do that while I'm driving or we'll crash." he warned sending daggers at him with his eyes. Russia decided to listen because right now, he felt pretty damn vulnerable. America began moving the bike out of the Main Street area and reaching a lot of stop and go traffic and Russia couldn't help but a notice, they were the only ones with two guys on a bike. All the other bikes that had two people there was a girl on the back.

_Is he secretly humiliating me?_ He stared at the back of America's head wondering when he got this sly and wanted to hop off but seeing as they started to stop less often he saw no real opportunity.

America turned on his blinker to get on the interstate and yelled back at Russia, "You better hang on!"

Russia was about to retort when his body was forced slightly back as they sped up faster than any car he's been in. He instinctively grabbed onto the American tightly as he felt another jolt of America shifting to go even faster. In just mere seconds, they were at 75 miles per hour, or at least it seemed like it was only seconds. _He's trying to fucking kill me!_ He wouldn't open his eyes and kept his face buried into the American's back.

America was smiling happy to have scared the Russian and knew the moment they got off the bike he would _definitely_ leave. As they continued down the interstate though, his grip kept tightening and it was even getting unbearable for him. "Russia you can calm down now we're done speeding up!" he yelled back toward him. In response he got a slight shake of the head and a tighter grip around his abdomen. He turned on his blinker to get off the interstate and pulled into a gas station parking on the side of the building. Once the bike was turned off he tried to get up but didn't get anywhere since Russia still hadn't let go him. "Let go and get off!" he yelled pulling at the arms that still wouldn't budge.

"You're trying to kill me!" shouted back Russia.

"We're stopped! God, if I knew you were going to act this scared I definitely wouldn't have asked you to be my bitch." America spat waiting for him to let go.

_Bitch?_ Russia's head snapped up and he got off the bike never letting go of America pulling him with him. "I am nobody's bitch da." declared Russia never relinquishing his hold as he dragged America away from his bike.

America didn't like this idea and was trying to get free kicking backwards and trying to hit him in the face. "Let go of me!" he yelled. "Yeah, you are my bitch because you rode passenger on the bike!" Russia recalled now that feeling he had before that America was mocking him and dammit he was. America was suddenly dropped to the ground and he stood up to face Russia not even noticing the menacing aura around him. "Stop being so bitchy…" He was cut off midsentence as Russia's pipe was soon produced out of his coat.

"I am not your bitch da." Russia assured smiling with murderous intent hidden in his eyes. America shivered still not fully used to the creepiness this man could produce on a moment's notice. "If you don't believe me, maybe we should settle it with a little bet da?" he smiled innocently now like a little child.

America stared back at him wondering if he should take this bet, but then again, the promise of the scariest, biggest county, being his bitch, sounded appealing for some oddly known reason. He decided to put the blame on how Russia acted when he rode his motorcycle but he smiled, "Sure, what should the bet be?"

"Who can drink the most da?" Russia suggested walking back over to the deathtrap. He also had another plan in his head until they reached a bar.

"I'm too young to drink." reminded America walking over to back up the bike first before Russia could get on.

Russia smiled tucking his pipe away while getting on the bike and whispered in his ear, "That's never stopped you before… especially during the Cold War." America turned around scowling at him and flipped him off before starting the bike to get back to Main Street Sturgis. Russia still didn't like this bike at all but tried to stay sitting up straight and ignored the weird stares they got as the passed other bikers. He saw they were getting on the interstate again and slowly wrapped his arms around America making him jump this time. _Caught him off guard._ Smirking he tightened his grip slightly and closed his eyes as they began picking up speed the same way as before. Once he felt they were staying at one speed, he forced his eyes open so he could focus on his plan, to make America as uncomfortable as possible. He put his head on his shoulder and saw that America didn't even flinch. _Well at least he doesn't want to get us killed… that's a first._ His hands slid lower on his abdomen and let one hand ghost America's crotch. He smiled as the American stiffened shaking his head trying to focus on the road and ignore the Russian. Russia leaned up closing his eyes, once he made sure he was near his ear, and began to lightly nibble and lick it.

America shivered slightly and cursed, "Russia! Not while I'm fucking driving!"

"Oh so, we can continue later da?" he asked innocently whispering into his ear and letting his hand rest on America's crotch.

Blushing several shades of color America gritted his teeth before yelling back, "I will never fuck you or let you fuck me!" He was about to say something else as Russia lightly squeezed Florida and began to palm. "DO YOU WANNA DIE?" America snapped trying so hard not to punch the other man off his bike and was also secretly hoping no one could see what was going on.

"Nyet, just become one…"

"I will crash the fucking bike right now if you finish that damn sentence." America snapped turning on his blinker to get the hell off the interstate. Russia just smiled sneaking one hand slowly up his shirt and once they reached the stop sign America snapped turning around. "I don't fucking li…MFPH!" He was interrupted by a deep kiss on the lips. Russia really didn't know why he was doing this but it felt right and was surprised when America began kissing him back instead of punching him. Two hands pushed at the Russian getting him to pull away and he met a flushed, blushing, American before he turned around to drive.

"We can still continue da." Russia said only making America's blush travel to his ears. A mumbled sound was heard and he poked America in the ear, "Америка, мой подсолнечника."

"Don't talk to me in that damn commie language!" he growled pulling into a hotel.

"Becom…"

"Depends." America smirked at him knowing no way in hell was Russia topping.

**America's bike, well what a Softail looks like anyway- **/en_US/Content/Pages/2010_Motorcycles/2010_?locale=en_US#/model/fxstc/gallery

**Translation:** Пошел на хуй американские свиньи, получаем, что начал Смертельная ловушка.- Fuck you American pig, get that deathtrap started.

Америка мой подсолнечника.-America, my sunflower.

**Sorry if this feels a little rushed but I'm kinda tired of writing lemons for now and I tried to hint through the whole thing that they liked each other but I'm not good at hinting romance and just plain suck at it. So I hoped you guys liked it!**


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